Nicholas Hoult - Screen Love Affair

‘Nosferatu’ Review: Beautifully Crafted Gothic Horror

It’s hard to tell old stories in new ways. That’s especially true when the story in question is one that’s been told countless times since the 1890s. If you’ve never read Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1897), you’re still likely familiar with the story in some form or another. If not that, then you’re surely familiar with the legacy of vampire storytelling that the novel ushered into the 20th century. How could you not be? Nosferatu is not, strictly speaking, an adaption of Dracula. It’s a remake of the silent German expressionist masterpiece Nosferatu, directed by F. W. Murnau in 1922. But the Murnau film is itself a thinly veiled adaptation of Stoker’s novel (Stoker’s widow sued Murnau for copyright infringement and won). Nosferatu had already been remade at least once before by Werner Herzog in the 1970s, while the original Dracula story has been remade and reimagined over and over again in the last hundred or so years. So, why would anyone remake Nosferatu in 2024? This is undoubtedly a passion project for Robert Eggers. In almost every interview on the Nosferatu press tour, he’s mentioned that he first saw Murnau’s Nosferatu when he was 9 years old and it left a big impression on him. Then, when he was 17, he put on his own stage adaptation, in which he played Count Orlok, and that project apparently propelled Eggers into wanting to become a director. Eggers’ take on Nosferatu isn’t radically new if you’ve seen any other adaptation of this story, but that’s okay. It would be almost impossible to do something completely new at this point, especially when vampires are involved. What his adaptation does do, however, is bring Nosferatu back to its folkloric roots. Eggers has proven with his previous films that he is a master of bringing ultra-specific period settings to life. His obsessive attention to detail and devotion to historical accuracy are perfect for a film like this. Some might argue that he’s even a little too interested in the details. Count Orlok’s period-accurate mustache (he is an undead 17th-century Transylvanian nobleman, after all), for one, has been the subject of much online debate and memes. Personally, I loved the ‘stache and thought it was a unique costuming choice that sets this Count apart from previous versions. But I can also see why some people found it strange or funny (along with Bill Skarsgard’s voice and accent work), and why that kind of reaction isn’t necessarily what you want out of a horror movie. Likewise, there are some scenes in the movie that serve no purpose in the narrative, other than to showcase some of the folk mythology around vampires. I’m thinking in particular of a sequence in which Nicholas Hoult’s Thomas Hutter follows a group of Romani travellers into the woods. It’s an atmospheric and interesting sequence, and it sets the mood for Hutter’s journey into Orlok’s castle, but with the movie’s somewhat drawn-out pacing, a scene like this could easily have been cut without losing anything essential. It’s only there, really, because Eggers is so devoted to showcasing historical vampire lore. Eggers interest seems to lie much more in recreating a world and an atmosphere and an image, as opposed to really digging deep into his characters or thematic concerns. The film’s protagonist, Ellen, is played well by Lily-Rose Depp, especially in her physicality, but certain character details are kept deliberately vague (her past trauma, her desires, her feelings of being an outsider in her time and place)—we get glimpses that could be explored further but aren’t really beyond the more ambiguous way these details are presented. But really, I’m nit-picking here. That surface-levelness adds to the almost fairytale-like quality of the movie. Beyond that, this film is also impeccably crafted. Everything from the costumes and sets to the use of natural lighting to the dark sumptuous cinematography makes this adaptation feel special, even if the beats are all familiar. It’s Gothic horror through and through, dark and operatic and nightmarish. While I wasn’t exactly scared by the film myself, it exudes a pervasive sense of dread that feels like it honours the source material. At one point, Count Orlok tells Ellen, “I am an appetite. Nothing more.” This version of Nosferatu is frightening precisely because he isn’t at all humanlike in his desire. He’s not a suave calculating gentleman with teeth—he’s a decrepit monster driven by an insatiable primal need to consume. There’s no sexualized caressing of pristine, untouched skin on a pale, outstretched neck. This Nosferatu is all writhing bodies and visceral, animalistic leeching from the chest (closer to the source—another great detail taken from vampire folklore). While the film gestures toward the romantic with the preternatural bond that Ellen shares with Orlok, and while it has a whole psychosexual thing going on the surface (Ellen’s moaning when she’s under Orlok’s spell; her diagnosis of hysteria, a condition historically weaponized against women who exhibited sexual agency; Nicholas Hoult’s frantic sweaty shirtless desperation), this is a largely bloodless vampire movie, in the sense that it’s much more grounded in the earth. It’s more interested in moldering rotting corpses and filthy hordes of rats and contorted bodies and faces, with blood leaking from the eyes. While there’s a fair amount of sex here, the film is far from being sexy. In the long history of vampire stories, we’ve reached a saturation point, and the vampire has arguably been defanged in pop culture ever since Twilight. So, I’m glad to have another vampire story in which vampires are not just scary again, but truly monstrous. Verdict No one asked for or needed another take on Dracula—yet I’m glad this dark Gothic nightmare of a film exists. Robert Eggers’ incredible eye and attention to detail bring some fresh blood to a story as old as the medium of film itself. The unsettling atmosphere, impeccable craft, and very committed performances—especially a physically demanding turn from Lily-Rose Depp—make this adaptation of the 1922 classic well worth your

‘Nosferatu’ Review: Beautifully Crafted Gothic Horror Read More »

‘The Order’ Review: Jude Law’s Neo-Nazi Docudrama Is One of the Best Cat-And-Mouse Crime Thrillers of the Year

The Order was one of the biggest surprises of AFF for me. I went into it with no expectations, not really knowing anything about it. What I got was one of the tightest crime dramas of the year so far. Of director Justin Kurzel’s previous work, I’d only seen his gritty, brooding adaptation of Macbeth, starring Michael Fassbender. Most of the rest of his filmography consists of smaller films set in his native Australia and probably his most high-profile film, the poorly received Assassin’s Creed adaptation from 2016. Likewise, screenwriter Zach Baylin’s previous credits include the Oscar-nominated King Richard alongside films like this year’s The Crow reboot and Bob Marley: One Love. All in all, a mixed bag, so you’d be forgiven for going into The Order with some trepidation. I assure you, however, it’s well worth your time. Set in the 1980s, the film is based on true events, following the FBI’s investigation into a white supremacist group, called The Order, behind a string of increasingly violent crimes with the goal of eventually overthrowing the US government. Jude Law plays the aging FBI agent in charge of the investigation, opposite Nicholas Hoult as Bob Matthews, the icy and persistent leader of The Order. If the plot sounds familiar or particularly resonant with recent history in America—well, it is. I was, personally, unfamiliar with the events depicted in the movie, so watching it was pretty eye-opening. I couldn’t believe that I had never heard about The Order or their crimes, some of which were quite high-profile and led to one of the largest manhunts in FBI history. Impressively, the movie manages to stay propulsive and entertaining without sensationalizing or diminishing the weight of the events it depicts. For having such dark, frighteningly relevant subject matter, it toes that line very well. Maybe it’s that I had just watched another gritty cat-and-mouse thriller in Dirty Harry earlier during the festival, but The Order felt like it had the sensibilities of a 70s procedural, despite its 80s setting. It’s stylistic without being flashy, dark and naturalistic, straightforward but still propulsive and thrilling. I’ve been a fan of Nicholas Hoult’s since I was a Skins-obsessed teenager (shout out to my other formerly Skins-obsessed girlies), but I’ll readily admit he’s been a fairly under-the-radar presence since breaking out into bigger film roles. He’s never bad, but he’s never particularly stood out, either. But here, he is chillingly good as a racist insurrectionist, giving what is undoubtedly a career-best performance so far (this one edges out his performance in Juror #2 for me, though he’s very good there too in a different kind of moral tale). Law is also fantastic as the down-and-out, mustachioed Agent Husk, in what might also be one of his best performances to date, making a role that could easily fall into tropey familiarity feel lived-in. Even the supporting cast is excellent, particularly Jurnee Smollett and Tye Sheridan, who both bring a lot of pathos to characters that might otherwise feel surface-level. I wasn’t expecting to be so moved by this film, yet I was. The movie’s action sequences—shootouts and robberies and an unforgettable final raid in a smoldering house—stand out as thrilling set pieces. But the film also effectively conveys the weight of collateral damage amidst all that violence. While there are clear bad guys and good guys here, given one side is made up of militant neo-Nazis, the movie draws some interesting parallels between its two leads. In particular, it draws a line between the sacrifices that are inevitably made in dogged pursuit of a single-minded obsession—whether it’s pursuit of an ideological conviction or of justice. Husk’s career of chasing criminals has cost him his family and his health, and over the course of the movie, we see Sheridan’s overzealous rookie cop character increasingly buy into Husk’s determined approach, almost “indoctrinated,” as screenwriter Zach Baylin put it in the post-film Q&A at AFF, in parallel to Matthews’ indoctrination of his disciples and his children. Of course, Sheridan’s Jamie is driven by his moral compass and a desire to protect his family, wanting to make the world a little safer for his biracial child. But in a strange way, family is also what Bob Matthews offers to his followers—a twisted form of acceptance and community, ironically based around a hateful and destructive ideology. For all his talk of brotherhood and family, however, he’s selfishly obsessed with furthering his own bloodline, at the expense of his wife and their adopted children. The explosive and unnatural violence that’s borne out of his commitment to his cause stands in stark contrast with the vast and natural beauty of the film’s Pacific Northwest landscape (gorgeously shot by DP Adam Arkapaw). These larger thematic threads all give the film some depth, despite what is largely a by-the-book narrative. Ultimately, there’s nothing revolutionary here (how many times have we seen the ‘grizzled detective with skeletons in his closet’ trope before?), but the movie accomplishes what it sets out to accomplish remarkably well. It’s tightly paced, with beautiful cinematography and excellent action sequences, and tells a story that’s both emotionally and historically resonant. Verdict If you’re looking for an old-school meat-and-potatoes historical crime thriller about cops and neo-Nazi robbers, The Order fits the bill perfectly. While some of the supporting characters are thinly drawn, the movie is bolstered by standout performances, propulsive action, beautiful cinematography, and a story pulled from one of the many dark chapters in American history, one that’s in many ways still being written.